


"Not a good time"

by Aethelthryn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Past Braeden/Derek Hale, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Pre-Relationship, Wolf Derek, or something like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3098963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aethelthryn/pseuds/Aethelthryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not a good day for Stiles and Derek doesn't know how to comfort him.<br/>Apparently the wolf inside him knows better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Not a good time"

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I wanted to post this story on the first day of 2015 but I'm the worst procrastinator ever so I just finished it...  
> It's my first drabble in the TW fandom and the first time I write something in English, I hope I didn't left typos or grammatical errors.  
> Feel free to correct me !

Sadness was one of the many emotions werewolves were able to sense. It was something Derek knew too much, the sensation that the air was thick around him, trying to crush him. Then, there was the faint salty smell brought by tears. It was almost imperceptible if you didn't focuse on it, but it was overwhelming for Derek. It brought back memories of his first months in New York, when he and Laura had been crying everyday, lost without their pack. He remembered the air, in the tiny bedroom, saturated with moisture and this same salty smell.

He wanted to leave, to hop by the window he just came through, but he couldn't move. 

"Now is really not a good time, Derek. You should come back tomorrow..." suggested Stiles.

The boy – no, the young man, Stiles wasn't a boy anymore – was lying on his bed, in a foetal position, facing away from him. Derek was surprised that Stiles knew exactly who entered his room whitout seeing him. He was only human, he didn't have an enhanced sense of smell or hearing. 

A few seconds, maybe minutes, passed without any movement from the both of them. It must have been too long for Stiles who became to stir with a frustrated groan. Derek saw him wipe his face with his sleeve before he turned his head toward him. His eyes were red and puffy, confirming that he had been crying before Derek's interruption. 

"Fine !" Stiles growled. "Do what you want, I'll just ignore you !" 

At this point, Derek had completely forgotten what he wanted from Stiles in the first place. The young man returned to his previous position without another word. But something caught Derek's eyes in the process : there was a framed picture cradled between his hands that seemed familiar. Derek instinctively glanced at Stiles's drawer and noticed the blank spot on it. And he knew instantly why it wasn't a good day for the boy. It was the anniversary of his mother's death. 

Derek definitely should have left the house, but something inside him was blocking his retreat. It was a situation he didn't know how to deal with because, even if he had evolved over the years, he was still kind of socialy inept when it came to people's emotions. He wasn't good at comforting and didn't know how to act around someone who was crying. 

It was one of the reasons why his relationship with Braeden had been the most successful, because it had been simple. She was a tough girl who didn't like to show her weaknesses, but she also was a good listener when he needed to rely on somebody. The two years they had spent together had been great, their relationship wasn't just about sex, but they hadn't share a deep connection either. And even if they weren't a couple anymore, they stayed close friends. 

Derek realised he had zoned out when he heard Stiles's annoyed sigh. The rational part of his mind was telling him to let the young man alone, that he himself wouldn't like someone witnessing his sorrow if the situation was reversed. But a little voice was whispering in his mind to remember all the things Stiles had done for him, the numerous times he had saved his life, the supporting hand on his shoulder after Boyd's death... and his hesitation to leave when he had been attacked by the Berserker in Mexico. It was time to give back.

His werewolf instinct was pushing him to comfort the wounded member of his pack. And for once in a long time, he let his wolf take over him.

***

Stiles's body started to cramp after long minutes of inertia and tension. He just wanted to be left alone, was it too much for Derek to understand ? 

Suddenly, he heard a crackling sound behind him, followed by soft footsteps. He refused to take a look and just hoped the werewolf was finally living his bedroom. 

It didn't take him long to know that he was wrong about Derek's actions. The footsteps were heading his way and they didn't sound totally human. A few seconds later, Stiles felt his mastress sag under Derek's weight.

His heart was racing in his chest and he barely refrained from hunching over himself. He knew he wasn't in danger with Derek but he couldn't suppress a hint of fear not knowing what were the man's intentions. 

He felt the body closer to him and something wet on his neck. That made him sit up abruptly, banging his head against he wall in the process. 

"Fuck !" he complained, massaging the back of his head. "What are y..."

He paused, his eyes catching a tuft of black fur instead of a leather jacket and black tight jeans. He lifted his head a little more and met the bright blue eyes of a wolf.

"What the..." Stiles tried again. "Derek ?"

The wolf's eyes turned to brown and it nodded its head slowly. Stiles took a closer look at Derek's wolf form. In three years, he never had the chance to witness any of Derek's transformations. It always occured during fights against various creatures, when Stiles and Lydia were kept away from danger. 

"Why did you transform ?" Stiles asked incredulously. 

The wolf took a step toward him, precarously balanced on the bed. His ears were flat against his head when he approached his muzzle to Stiles's chest. The boy froze at the contact, unable to say or do anything. 

Derek seemed to take this as a permission to push Stiles with his head. But when the boy didn't move, he used his teeth to pull on his shirt. 

"What do you want ?!" hissed Stiles, causing Derek to back off like a dog being reprimanded. "Sorry... I'm just not in the mood for your shit."

Stiles grabbed the frame that was between the two of them and put it on his pillow before lying down again. He had just closed his eyes when he felt a weight on his thorax. "Really ?"

The wolf was stretched out on the bed, his head resting on Stiles's chest and his eyes fixed on Stiles's face. The young man let out a loud sigh but didn't push Derek off of him. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but the wolf's presence soothed him a little.

 

After a long moment of peaceful silence, Stiles let his hand wander in Derek's fur, just under the neck. The werewolf didn't seem to mind and Stiles thought he was a lot less intimidating in this form. Well, it wasn't like Stiles had been intimidated by Derek. At least not for a long while.

Stiles unconsciously began to pet the wolf, slowly forgetting who he was. He was only focused on the sensations it brought to him. He was calmer and the knot in his throat loosened whit each stroke. 

But Stiles and silence weren't compatible, so he started to speak, the words tumbling out of his mouth. "It's been ten years." 

The wolf's ears priked up at that and he repositionned his head on Stiles's chest to look right at him. 

"I thought it would be easier... That the pain would lessen with time..." He paused and looked at the picture beside him. He was just a baby in it, barely a few days old, and his mother was looking at him like he was the eighth wonder in the world. "Everybody told me it would be easier, but they are so wrong... There's always something like a song, a film, a few times in a year that keep reminding me of her. And all I want to do in those moments is wrap myself in a blanket and cry. But I can't, you know, because I'm not allowed to break down like that in front of anyone."

His vision was blurred by tears and he didn't bother to wipe his eyes. It was the only day of the year he allowed himself to be a mess over the memory of his mother, and for the first time in ten years he didn't care to be seen like that. 

He heard a small whine from the wolf. Then the head on his chest was replaced by a forepaw and Stiles's felt a raspy tongue on his cheek, wiping away his tears. He laughed at the incongruity of the situation and gently pushed the wolf's head away. The dark brown eyes were so intense and full of emotions that something twisted in Stiles's stomach. 

"Of course you know what it is..." he whispered. The wolf whined again and tried to hide his head in the pillow below him. 

Stiles caught the photo frame again and put it out of reach. After a last look at it, he closed the distance between himself and the wolf and hugged him. Derek's first reaction was to froze. But when Stiles placed his head in the werewolf's neck and began to shush him, his body went slack in his arms. 

"Shh... It's okay... I'm sorry for what you've been through..." Stiles's voice was barely audible. "Thank you for staying with me."

***

It was late in the night when the Sheriff pulled up his car in the driveway. The day had been exhausting, like every year for the last ten years. 

He let himself into the house and immediatly climbed the stairs. It was their ritual. The Sheriff would work a double shift on the anniversary of Claudia's death and Stiles would stay in his bed all day long. Then, after midnight, he would come home and find his son with red puffy eyes, unable to sleep. 

But something was different when the Sheriff reached the second floor. There wasn't any light under Stiles's bedroom door. He took a step forward and slowly opened it. After a few seconds, his eyes adapted to the darkness and he found his son clinging to a very naked Derek. 

His first instinct was to barrel into the room and ask for explanations, but then he saw Stiles's face. The boy's expression was more relaxed than he had seen it in a very long time, and the Sheriff decided that the questions could wait until breakfast. 

He closed the door behind him and headed to his own bedroom. After he got rid of his duty belt, he lay on his bed and looked at the picture on his bedside table. "Stiles will always surprise me, Claudia... When you left us, I thought he would rely on Scott on this particular day of the year, but he just ignore the world for twenty-four hours. Then I was so sure Malia would be the one to break his shell... Well, apparently the first love is not always the last, like it was for us." He paused and rubbed his eyes. "But Derek... I certainly never considered the possibility. I don't know what it is and I whish you were here to help me figuring this out."

The bedroom fell into silence again and the Sheriff closed his eyes. 

"At least, I know one thing... I'm happy he finally found someone to rely on."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it !
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://aethelthryn.tumblr.com/).


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